


Lay Me Down

by addictmarchingtothesea



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Explicit Language, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Insecure Michael, Lay Me Down by Sam Smith, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Squip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-06-30 10:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictmarchingtothesea/pseuds/addictmarchingtothesea
Summary: Michael had a secret.Two secrets, actually.The first one being his job at a downtown karaoke-poetry joint, and performances there.And the second..well it's a complicated affair.





	1. Carson's

**Author's Note:**

> This little ficlet is inspired by a video on YouTube of George singing Lay Me Down by Sam Smith on a Filipino network. I thought it would be fun to intergrate into a fic. I haven't written anything in a while, never really written anything good, and this is my first Be More Chill work, so I sincerely apologize for how cringy my writing style is.

 On days like these, the asphalt seemed to breathe. Steam seeped from the pavement as a result of afternoon rain. Michael loved the summertime. Living in the south kinda sucked sometimes for a teen struggling with who he is, but little things like these made it better.

 With the heat mentioned, Michael was glad he'd decided to ditch his hoodie at home. Although, in doing so he'd sacrificed feeling comfortable enough to let the muscles in his abdomen relax. You know how it is.

So hoodie-less, clad in an old band shirt, jeans, a bandana holding his ever-flopping fringe up, Michael found himself walking through the familiar wooden doors of his downtown destination, Carson's. 

Carson's was like a karaoke club you could say, except not really.  It was like a karaoke club that wasn't limited to karaoke. People could do slam poetry, covers, original songs, anything of that nature. No memberships, no setlist, nothing. Just walk in and perform if you wanted to.

Most of the downtown area was built in the early 1900's or earlier. The place that Carson's now stood in used to be a bar, well, at least it was a bar a little over a hundred years ago, but had been shut down during Prohibition. But here it stood, with a decent stage and a quiet, sparse set of regulars keeping the place open. 

Michael sometimes felt guilty for never letting Jeremy know about Carson's, where he went every Thursday night, but it felt like an escape of sorts. This one corner of the earth where Michael had no stresses. Bringing other people into it, especially Jere, may jeapordize that.

Michael found himself on his favorite barstool, a signature cherry ("Always on the house for you, Michael") slushie in his hand, and looked forward to see who would be performing this week. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things: 
> 
> ~For the record, I did not write Michael as an 'insecure uwu soft boi must protect' character because I believe the things that hurt people are not to be glamorized or watered down into something 'cute' when they can have terrible effects on a person. I have a habit of projecting parts of myself into a character within the process of being able to write from their perspective.~
> 
> ~This is based in the American south because I know nothing about the canon location (New Jersey) and again, I have a terrible habit of projecting myself into things. ~


	2. Maybe

"Y'know, I'd love to see you on that stage instead of hiding behind a slushie at my counter every week"

Michael chuckled and turned around to see owner of the familiar voice, and owner of Carson's, Ricky Carson.

Ricky was a good, genuine man. His scruffy beard, gravelly voice, faded tattoo sleeves, and questionable grammar gave him his rough n' tough exterior, but anyone who'd come into contact with him would know he was basically the soul of a teddy bear incarnate. 

"I think you'd eat those words the moment I opened my mouth to the mic, Mr. Ricky." 

"Ah, c'mon Michael. I've known you for long enough to know your mind ain't one of no shallow youth. I know you like writin' in that little notebook o' yours an' I bet there's somethin' real powerful in there. Some kinda poem, song, story, somethin'. I'd like to hear ya perform somethin' one day. "

Michael thought about the small, worn, brown moleskin notebook in his pocket and smiled. 

"Maybe"

"I'll tell ya what, soon as you sing somethin' up on that stage, I just might getcha that job here you been askin' about for so long" 

"Really?!" Michael practically squealed. "You mean that?"

Ricky nodded and grinned.

" 'course I mean it, kid. Sammie is moving off to college next fall an' that means she ain't gone be here to help out anymore. That opens up a nice spot in the payroll I'd be happy to pass along to you." 

Michael beamed. He'd been working at 7/11 for the better part of a year and the hours and work environment had taken a toll on him. He was a simple kid. Being in public and on the front lines of constant social interaction, stocking, and criticism exhausted him to the point he'd spend more time curled up in bed than anywhere else. He was happy he might now have a chance to quit. 

"I really appreciate it, Mr. Ricky." Michael checked his phone. "It's probably about time for me to go. Nanay'll be worried sick if I'm out past 8" 

" 's alright. I'll see you next week. I expect you to be singin' somethin' nice, alright? " Mr. Ricky said with a warm smile. 

Michael headed towards the door and shook his head with a smile. "Yes sir."

"Bye, Michael"

"Bye, Mr. Ricky"

 


	3. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're introduced to the workings of Michael and Jeremy's friendship, and things are said and done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for this terrible uploading schedule. It's really not even a schedule. I don't even have an excuse I'm just really unmotivated. I'm very self-conscious about my writing style because sometimes I catch myself sounding WAY too wordy, then when I try not to do that, it ends up sounding like child wrote it, as evident in this fic. I sound like I'm begging for validation, I promise im not, I just need to vent.

"Do you think you'll be off work on Saturday?"

It was Monday night, Michael and Jeremy were passing time in the former's basement. Michael was writing and Jeremy was playing  Mario Kart.

Michael looks up from his notebook and snaps out of his haze. "Hm?"

Jeremy shakes his head and sighs inwardly, pausing the game. Michael's been so trapped in his own little world lately. They don't hang out half as much as they used to, sometimes it's almost like Michael is just intentionally pushing him away, avoiding him. Of course this was obviously all probably a result of the fight three months ago, or maybe more the incident that came afterwards, starting their whole affair. But rather than address it right now, he just tiredly asks again. 

"Are you gonna be off of work on Saturday?"

"Well, I mean, I kind of was thinking about quitting this week?" Michael replies, as if it were a question. 

"Oh" Jeremy swallows. "Well, uh, why?"

Michael shrugs. "The schedule is hard to work with, plus my manager is kinda racist. I dunno, it's just not working out."

 Well that was the understatement of the century. 

Normally Michael would've told Jeremy all about the shifts until 11 PM on a school night, then the hour of Pre-Cal homework afterwards which didn't matter because the rest of his grades were slipping.

Or maybe he'd tell him about all the nights in the past month where he'd actually had time to sleep but wasn't able to because he couldn't get Jeremy off his mind. Every dream was one of he and Michael either fighting or fucking, which didn't stray too far from their real situation. 

Jeremy nods. "I see.."

"Why'd you want to know?"

Jeremy shrugged and resumed the game. "Dunno. Thought about maybe hanging out."

Michael took a deep breath and closed his notebook to turn around and face Jeremy. 

 "Like hang out, how? Doing what?"

 Jeremy smirked, eyes never leaving the TV screen. "I mean, I've got ideas.."

Michael shook his head and grabbed the game controller from Jeremy's hands, leaving Jeremy to stare at the floor. 

"Are any of these ideas going to involve cheating on your girlfriend?" Michael asks in a quiet but grumbly tone. 

"Christine isn't my girlfriend anymore, Michael. You know that." Jeremy responds sternly. 

"She might as well be!" Michael cries. "I mean you flirt with her and lead her on like you're gonna take her back all the time!"

Jeremy look up at the TV where his character's car has hydroplaned into an abyss.

 

A small moment of silence. 

He turns his head towards Michael.

 

"What she doesn't know can't hurt her." Jeremy whispers. 

Inside, Michael's mind is screaming. ' _What about me?! You fucking blind bitch! Just because you've got your head too far down on my dick to realize that I love you doesn't mean Christine is the only one this is hurting!'_

Outside, Michael lunges at Jeremy, attacking his throat with his mouth, sucking and biting and once again trying to express his anger in the most counterproductive way possible, but the one that impulsively feels best. 

"A-ah, _fuck_   _Micah_!" the brunette screams. 

Jeremy keeps moaning and gripping Michael's hair, begging him not to stop, while Michael grunts and inwardly begs himself to. 

 

Fuck, this was a mess. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was meant to be a really cute oneshot then it got dark and I guess i need to stick to it now haha


End file.
